Monsters and Motors
by Dr. Doctor Doctor PhD
Summary: Monster Girl Encyclopedia Self Insert. Mature. When a young man regains consciousness after a horrific motorcycle accident, he finds himself placed in one of the most controversial and debauched settings the world has to offer. Can he find his way home before he succumbs to the dangers lurking around every corner in this world? Or will he become a part of something much greater?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I own nothing.

Alright, this whole creative writing thing is new to me. I don't do it often outside of college classes so any critique on how to improve would help me immensely. This fic is inspired by Fission Battery and Lucky Chaos, who have done two excellent Monster Girl SIs already.

I saw MGQ and Monster Monsume, but none for MGE. And I thought to myself, "Hell, if they can make those settings appropriate enough for Spacebattles, then I can make this work too!" I know the rules, and what's allowed and what isn't. If I do post something that is a gray area, do tell me so I can rectify it!

Regardless, I hope you all enjoy. Writing is difficult, but quite rewarding. I hope to get better during my stay on this forum. Thanks once again, and enjoy!

Fanfiction is much more lenient when it comes to how they describe a "Mature" setting. Therefore I'll be posting all unedited chapters for the story here.

It had been quiet the night I went out for my last ride. I couldn't hear anything but the sound of crickets in those rocky fields that bordered both sides of that dilapidated backside road. I could only focus on weaving in between those faded white lines, the way the wheels of my bike glided seamlessly over the grayed asphalt of that road. I remembered how quickly I had left the house that evening. I remember the anger that propelled me forward to climb on my motorcycle and leave my cell phone and wallet behind. I could recall that time where I didn't want contact with anyone. I just wanted a few moments to myself, to go to a place where I could think clearly and get my head straight.

The reason was petty- why I had made my little sister cry. She was just a kid, she didn't know any better. It wasn't the first time I had a falling out with my loved ones. I just never expected it would be my last.

It was stupid of me to wear a heavy tinted helmet in the middle of the night. It was stupid of me to leave the house in an infantile fit of frustration and rage.

Running away seemed like the best choice at the time. There wasn't a moment where I didn't think I was a bad brother and an even worse son. I just thought...that why would anyone want a dumbass as their kid, you know? Hell, I just wanted to drive somewhere far away. I guess that deep down we were all a little fucked up.

If people hated you, and you didn't understand why, then why not give them a reason?

All my horrible decisions and emotional outbreaks caught up with me in a single moment. I didn't notice that the road gave way to an intersection. I realized my mistake pretty damn fast when I smashed into a guardrail at ninety miles an hour, feeling myself being lifted into the air as my Victory Octane crumpled and all but exploded underneath me. As I felt that warm summer breeze whistling pass me on my path forward, I could've sworn that I could count every star in the Florida sky. The crickets had stopped singing, and I felt myself being sucked into an all consuming void that enveloped me in darkness. My eyes only widened in surprise as the silence got to me, followed by a choked back gurgle that tore through my throat as I felt an audible crunching sensation in my neck.

A sharp pain shot its way up my spine, and I felt my toes curling as I struggled to maintain consciousness.

I felt a fear that was unfamiliar to me; I didn't even have a chance to scream. I blinked and I was dead.

Dying was scary, but never getting to say goodbye was downright terrifying.

-

I felt frigid.

My blood felt like ice coursing through my veins, a crimson slush that pulsed in my arteries and sloshed around in my heart. My tongue felt brittle as it hung loosely in my mouth, and as I ran it over my lips, I noticed they were cracked and split. With every breath my lungs rattled in protest, and suddenly I was hacking and wheezing as I my eyes shot open.

I began to sit up, only stopping as I felt something pushing up against my chest. I blinked, my mind racing as I looked around, desperately hoping that I could find something that would help me understand just what the hell happened to me. Yet, in the dim light I could find nothing but the outline of some apparition, a pitch black figure that somehow managed to be darker that the blackness around it.

"Calm down, young man. You are safe now." A voice called out to me. It was masculine, smooth, low and refined from years of experience and education. It sounded Italian. Strange, all things considered.

"W-Who're you?" I stammered out, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

I felt the pressure on my chest being lifted, instead shifting over to my neck as I felt a pair of fingers gingerly grasp my chin. Suddenly, light flooded into my vision as I groaned and pulled away.

"I advise you to be still," The voice said again, sounding further away than it previously did. "You are extremely lucky. This was my first time doing reconstructive work on someone's neck."

My eyes adjusted in that dim light, blurry shapes and dull colors contorting among my perception as I blinked once more.

Immediately I knew something was wrong.

Two dark circles stared back at me, the light of what I presumed to be a torch casting a faint glimmer on those black rimmed goggles. The person in front of me was what I could best describe as some old plague doctor from the 15th century. The light flickered and waned against his beaked alabaster mask, his head covered with some wide brimmed hat that dipped below his forehead, covering the uppermost portion of his eyes. He smelled of rosemary and mint, flecks of brown dotting the front of his sable tunic. Long dark sleeves parted way to show gloved hands stained crimson, the scent of iron permeating through the air and causing me to breathe shallow.

"To answer your question, boy, I am Ciro Cardone. My professions are many, my pursuits endless. You've made quite a mess of yourself, young man."

He paused.

"A cracked cervical vertebrae, severe inflammation of the nerves, as well as a few herniated discs in your spine. -That- is what plagues you right now, young man. I've never seen an individual in such a poor state. Luckily I had enough herbs and potions in my bag to revive you. Milk of the Willow is quite effective for repairing muscle tears and bone fractures."

Ciro placed a finger on the tip of his beak, tapping it lightly as he glanced away from me.

"Milk of the what now?" I asked, wincing as a stabbing sensation tore it's way through my neck. "This is very fuckin' strange, doc. What, with your freakin' ancient get up and strange terminology. You sure you just ain't some larper prancing around in a hut in the middle of nowhere?"

"Oh dear, you have quite the mouth don't you?" Ciro replied, a muffled chuckle coming from him as he shook his head. "I should say the same about you. I don't recognize your attire, stranger. You wear some quite peculiar armor. The material of the helmet was quite hard, yet it wasn't any metal I was familiar with."

"What, you've never seen a motorcycle helmet before?" I asked, finally managing to sit up straight.

"Enlighten me," The good doctor began, cocking his head. "What is this 'Motorcycle' you speak of?"

"You don't know what a motorcycle is? What century have you been living in?" I said flatly, my eyes narrowing at him as I felt myself begin to frown.

"The Era of the Succubus, unlike you, you…" He trailed off, looking at me up and down. "Simpleton."

"Stop kidding around, Doctor, I'm being serious." I growled, rubbing my eyes.

Damn, it was still too dark to see.

"As am I, young man." Ciro stood, tapping the wooden floor with his foot before turning around. "It's quite late, you are welcome to join me for breakfast in the morning. However, I must be going to bed. Only then will we play your little game of questions."

He reached for the torch that was fastened against the wall, removing it from it's iron fixture before bringing it to his face.

"Hopefully you will be more pleasant. I do hope you enjoy the bed, it's been a quite some time since I've utilized the guest room."

He walked silently through the doorway, the light fading off into a hallway before disappearing altogether. I said nothing, for I had never been more uneasy in my entire life.

Dr. Cardone, he…

He had outlines. It was as if he was a fucking drawing or something!

I shook my head, ignoring another onset of neck pain before placing my head against the pillow. I was delirious. Everything would go back to normal. It was all just a bad dream.

I hoped.

Closing my eyes, I resigned myself to a restless slumber.

Ciro said he had to check on me multiple times that night. He said I awoke screaming, mumbling something incoherent to him before drifting back to sleep.

He said I fidgeted in my sleep, tossing and turning among the sheets, perspiration dripping from my brow and slithering past my pale, quivering lips. That I whimpered, turned over multiple times and just groaned into the pillow. When my body lurched forward, he grabbed me and forcefully kept me down, watching as my eyes shot open and and began to frantically scanning around the room, fearful of whatever imaginary threat they could conceive in the dimness of his quarters. When I awoke, however, nothing was perceived, save for some old furniture and the softening outlines of my own shadow. It was through this revelation that I allowed my mind to ease, and in turn, cause my frantic heartbeat to simmer down into a light thumping in my chest.

"It was just a nightmare, young man." Ciro consoled me, dabbing my forehead with a wet cloth. "That's all it was, a nightmare."

I turned to him, and, noticing that I was still seeing everything as if stuck I was stuck in a cartoon, buried my face into his shoulder, exhaling quietly into his neck before swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I remained like that for a few moments, only looking up when he told me to drink the greenish liquid that laid secured in a corked vial between his fingers.

"What's happening to me, Doctor?" I mumbled, "What's going on? Where am I?"

"I...I don't know," Ciro told me, his voice unsteady as he handed me the tube. "But here's something to bring your fever down."

The light from the early morning sun pierced the grey clouds that drifted up above through the window, its rays beginning to seep into the gloomy darkness of the bedroom, bathing the area in a golden shade and causing the furniture to radiate with the flaxen hue of sunlight.

Ciro bid me to wait a moment, leaving the room briefly before coming back, my clothes folded neatly in his grasp as he placed them on my lap.

"Get dressed, and I will tell you what I know."

-  
It took me awhile to get dressed, but I was finally done. I rolled my shoulders back, tugging on the zipper of my leather biking jacket before buttoning my jeans. I slipped on my fancy schmancy ballistic touring boots, kicking the edge of the bed as I wedged my foot deeper inside the footwear.

"Rocket." Ciro addressed me, from the doorway, causing me to turn around and cock an eyebrow.

"Rocket?" I parroted, staring at him with confusion.

"Ah, don't mind me. I'm just reading the back of your coat, is all."

"Oh." I said simply, fiddling with my gloves as I walked towards him. "Yeah, my folks got me it for Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"It's a long story."

-  
I stared blankly at the bowl of porridge that rested in front of me, poking it idly with my spoon before swirling it around with a sense of morbid fascination. Drawn food...

I wonder if it tastes like acrylic paint…

"Your complexion has returned to a healthier shade." Ciro noted, folding his hands as he watched me from across the table in his kitchen.

"It has? I hadn't noticed. What color was it before?" I asked, bringing the spoon to my lips and taking an ever so small amount of gruel into my mouth.

Huh, it tasted like oatmeal. Fuck, this place is weird.

"I dare say, I could've mistaken you for a male zombie." Ciro chuckled, "You were practically gray!"

"That sounds...bad." I managed to eventually say, dropping the spoon back in my bowl. "I'm failing to grasp something here, what's so surprising about a zombie that happens to be a man?"

Ciro crossed his arms, placing a gloved hand underneath his beak as he looked up thoughtfully. "Well, for as long as I have been alive I can only recall ever seeing female monsters."

"Female monsters?"

"Indeed. Although there was a time long ago in which monsters came in all shapes and sizes, slaughtering people and consuming them-"

"Alright, wait, wait, wait." I interrupted him, holding out my hand. "What are you talking about? Monster girls? Forgive me if I don't believe you."

Ciro stood silently from his seat, placing a black leather bag on the table and rummaging through it, withdrew yet another corked jar, placing it before me so that I could see the label.

Reaching forward, I lifted the jar to my face, my eyes narrowing at it as I examined it closer.

The label was printed on white parchment with navy blue outlines, a big breasted horned woman plastered on the front, staring at the viewer with soft and playful eyes as she smooshed a bronze cowbell between her chest. Her hair was cut short, ivory white with black highlights on her bangs that were distributed evenly around her head.

I nodded slowly, placing the jar back down on the table and looked back towards Ciro.

"Holstaur's milk?" I asked, my faith in God now fully diminished.

"Quite so. I highly suggest you do not drink that. I'm currently using it for some...experiments."

"Alright Doc, alright." I nodded.

Damn, all this time I thought Spacebattles was full of shit.

"One more thing, Doctor Cardone." I began, crossing my arms. "I need my helmet, and directions to the place where you found me."

The masked man nodded, wiping his gloved hands with rag as he spoke. "Very well. I trust you will be on your way then?"

"Honestly," I began, leaning back into my seat, "I don't what the hell to do at this point."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

 **Well, so far so good. I'm surprised that people are liking this so far. Ya'll are making my heart feel all warm and fuzzy. I'm going to try to be posting at least a thousand words a day while my mojo is still working. I like a good daily update with my stories.**

 **Anyway, hopefully I'm portraying the monsters well enough for people. I must say, this is difficult. Yet, I'm a glutton for punishment.**

 **-**

It had been **six** hours since I left Ciro's house before I realized that I didn't know how to read a map. Sure, it was well drawn, complete with handwritten directions on the top. Yet, being born in the era of the GPS, I didn't spend a good portion of my life brushing up on bullshit such as geography and land navigation.

In hindsight, it probably would have been extremely beneficial of me to do so.

"Just where in the hell am I?" I muttered to myself, looking up from the map and taking a look at my surroundings.

I was currently on a dirt path that led to some settlement called 'Autumn's Peak.' Apparently the place had been in a state of perpetual Fall for as long as anyone could remember, or so Ciro said. Seeing as I saw no forests, no buildings, and certainly not a plethora of fulvous colors, I definitely wasn't around that area.

Rather, I saw nothing but wide spanning fields of grass, shades of green akin to that of the Emerald Isle. It was oddly comforting, this otherworldly beauty.

I lifted a hand to my face, opening and closing it gently as I felt my eyes soften. "You too, huh?"

I hadn't had much time to think about it until now, the way I looked.

Suddenly turning into a drawing makes one feel awfully strange. You don't feel like yourself. Everything you knew and ever will know just felt wrong, unnatural. Even if the entire world appeared the same, and everyone was just like you, there was a certain sense of isolation. The more you dwelled upon the thought the more alien you thought you were, and when it came down to it, you wondered if there was ever a way to feel normal again.

Such a petty thing to think about, I know, but who is to say it's not something we often take for granted?

Shaking my head, I returned my attention to the map, running a finger over the path I had currently taken.

"So am I supposed to go left or right?" I asked myself, pointing to a spot in the map in which the path split into two directions.

"Fuck me! I can't even read this guy's handwriting! It's all in cursive or some shit!" I growled, crumpling up the map in my frustration before tossing it to the side of the road.

I'll find my own damn way thank you very much.

I was lost.

Truly and utterly lost.

The dying sun dipped below the flower speckled hillsides as night began to settle across the meadow. A cool and gentle light breeze blew across the exposed skin of my neck and wrists, inadvertently causing me to shiver as I grabbed the collar of my jacket and tucked my chin forward.

"I really should've kept that map." I whispered, shaking my head at my own sheer stupidity.

Hell, what was I thinking? I never should have left Ciro's house in the first place. I was under equipped, possessed nothing but the clothes on my back, and was currently in the middle of some godforsaken field, which was probably infested with monsters and beasts to boot.

Not only that, but I was damn near starving. I hadn't eaten anything since the artistic (yet surprisingly edible) porridge Ciro gave me at breakfast.

If there's anything I learned about myself in the brief amount of time I've spent in this place, is that I'm absolutely horrendous at this 'adventuring' thing.

This is why I don't play MMOs.

I wandered for a few more minutes, my heart racing in the dwindling light of a dying day. There was quite a bit to be concerned about, but I felt that my mind was too cluttered to think straight.

Fuck, how I missed my ride.

When I had finally decided to stop and rest for the evening, the reign of dusk had long since ended. Now, only the stars remained in the pitch black sky, gray clouds swirling amongst the cosmos, almost indistinguishable.

Pale moonlight washed over the land as the sound of crickets began to fill the fields of flowers and grass.

I looked up, noticing that despite all things, there was a full moon. It was one distinct positive in a storm of issues, a brief bright moment in a blizzard of blights and ill fortune.

It reminded me of the time I took my baby sister out stargazing for the first time one October night. I tried to tell her the constellations and legends of the ancient Greeks and Romans, but she was more interested in playing with leaves than mythology.

"I miss you, kiddo." I muttered, wrapping my fingers around the edges of my scuffed helmet and tucking it under my arm.

I had to keep moving. I knew jack shit about KC's world when it came down to it. Oh sure, I knew a couple monsters here and there, as well as the gist of the setting, but sure as hell not much more than that.

I groaned as got to my feet, running the palm of my hand over my neck as I rolled my shoulders. It was strange, fantasy medicine. I didn't even had a scar. Come to think about it, I didn't really have anything that told me I had surgery. Well, minus the pale skin.

It was time to press onward.

-  
Something was different.

The wind carried upon it a sweet melody that tantalized my ears in comforting warmth, and already I felt a rising heat deep within in my chest as I looked around for source of the sound. It was beautiful, this music. It's difficult to describe it. Yet, it gave me the feeling of utter bliss, and I wanted to hear more. It was enticingly enchanting, more lively and emotional than any orchestra that I ever heard in my own world.

I stumbled forward, as if intoxicated, this harmony enrapturing me in a sort of drunken pleasure.

That was the first sign when I knew something was off. I made an effort to stop my legs, deliberately making my movements jerkier in an effort to back away. Yet, they would not obey.

My entranced self had brought me to the bottom of a massive hill, the edges glistening with evening dew under the dim moonlight, the sides sloping narrowly downward.

An old tree was rooted at the top, standing lonely upon that hill like a stalwart sentry, overlooking the valley in solemn silence. The trunk glimmered in an amber hue, as if someone had decided to light a fire next to it. The volume of the music was increasing intensely, and so my in my mind's false eagerness it propelled itself forward to reach the peak.

Higher and higher.

Upward Bound.

Steeper and ever more slippery.

My boots slid across the dark grass, causing me to fall on my knees more than a few times in my efforts to climb this damnable slope.

"Jeeze, you'd have to be part mountain goat to climb this bullshit." I growled, raising my one free arm and grasping the even ground that laid at the top.

I clambered to my feet, placing my helmet over my head and sliding the visor up. Both of my arms were numb, and my jeans were damp and stained on the knees.

I placed a gloved hand on the base of the tree, panting softly when I noticed the pale wallowings of firelight dancing upon the faded colors of my jacket.

"Oh my, a visitor?" A voice sang out through the darkness, sultry and low. Feminine. Husky, but also melodious and jovial. "And to think, I thought I'd be spending this chilly night alone."

My heart thudded heavily in my ears, the music fading out as the overwhelming sound of my own breathing encompassed me.

Looking up, I found that my worst fear had come to fruition.

Amethyst eyes stared at me beyond the flickering flames of the campfire, softening as they continued to behold me in their sight.

"Come closer, Sir. There is nothing to be afraid of."

"I'd rather not." I replied, finding my voice faltering.

How could one be confident in a situation such as this?

"I would be a poor host if I did not share my fire with a guest."

"And you are?" I shot back, clenching my fists as I deliberated on whether or not to just roll down the hill.

Finally, a face came towards the flames, and I felt my cheeks burn and become tinged with blush.

She possessed a beautiful visage; carefully sculpted cheeks and flawless skin without blemish. Her lips were soft, plump, and well formed. They glistened near the fire as if graced with gloss, her mouth shifting into a gentle smile with each drawn out word she spoke. Wine colored locks fell graciously past her eyes, their color vibrant and lively, tinged with maroon. They ended in a well formed braid that laid delicately upon her slender shoulder, a grape vine intertwined in her hair as if holding her braid into place. It all accumulated it a luscious bunch of grapes that dangled past her lilac earrings, and, much like her beauty, was amaranthine. But the most prevalent, without a doubt, were the rather large and curvy goat horns that protruded from the sides of her head.

"My name is Diana, but you can call me anything you want, Sir."

"How accommodating of you." I replied, unsure of how to respond.

"It's in my nature." She giggled, standing up and coming closer.

'Satyros.'

Or so the Wandering Scholar called them. She looked exactly like the one in the book.

Shit, when did my life get this weird?

Her hooves were muffled by the dew covered grass as she came, her hips swaying back and forth, each step deliberate, seductive.

Already she was placing her body against mine, her white dress gloves gingerly tracing down my chest as she placed her chin upon my shoulder.

Then, with honeyed words and whispers sweet, she spoke to me.

"My, what strange attire. It is unlike any armor I've seen before. Tell me, are you a knight?"

I inhaled deeply, unintentionally catching the scent of her hair. She smelled of sugared wine, and a whiff of her hot breath was pleasantly sweet and tinged with alcohol.

Fitting, of course. She was a lady who knew how to handle a few drinks.

"You could say that, my mount is currently elsewhere at the moment." I managed to say, trying to find the confidence to get through this.

"Mm..." She hummed, taking her chin off my shoulder as she stared into my eyes, searching. "In the meantime, why don't we share a drink? It's been awhile since I've spent time with so..."

She flicked her silky tail against my waist, sending a shiver down my spine as I broke away from her gaze, waiting as she trailed off.

"...lovely a gentleman."

"Is that so?" Was all I could say.

There'd be time to figure this out. I just gotta hold my liquor in the meantime. Maybe I'd be fine, I wasn't from this universe, after all.

Or maybe that'd have the opposite effect.

Fuck.

Alright, time to worry.  
 **-**


	3. Chapter 3

Diana took my hand in hers and led me to a clearing where the grass dwindled down into earth and rock. It was almost spherical in shape, the dusky ground illuminated by a crackling campfire in the middle. A sizable tent was set up in the far left hand corner, the flaps rustling softly in the evening wind, parting way to reveal a dimly lit interior of which I could not clearly describe.

Near the fire was an old log, the purpose of which I could only assume would be for sitting. Leaned up against it was a silver flute, it's shape akin to that of a horn of some wild beast. Elaborate engravings were etched on the front, delicately crafted grape vines swaddling around the base of the instrument, wrapping around the tone holes before looping above in the fragile shape of a heart.

The music of the heart was ever truthful, I supposed.

"Come, sit with me." She let go of my hands, slowly strutting over to the log and taking a seat. She curled in her luxuriant silken legs, looking towards me as she closed her eyes and patted the vacant spot next to her.

"You plan on getting me inebriated, do you?" I asked her, my voice full of mirth as I smirked underneath my helmet.

"By Bacchus, I wouldn't dream of it." She replied, placing her dainty hands over her mouth and lightly shaking her head. "I merely wish to get to know you, Stranger. You look like you have been wandering for quite some time. What made you decide to visit the Fields of Lucio?"

She told me where I currently was. Good. Perhaps she could give me directions towards civilization. I'd have to play my cards carefully, I don't want to appear too outlandish to her. It would be best to keep her interest about me to a minimum.

"Oh, you know, quests and stuff like that." I replied, walking forward and taking a seat next to her, making sure to give the goat a wide berth before continuing. "I actually ran out of supplies some time before coming here. I'm just looking for a vendor of some sort to restock before I head out again."

I rubbed my eyes in thought for a brief moment before turning to her once again. "I was about to-"

She closed the sizeable gap I left between us in less than a second. I didn't even see her move, and now she was already next to me, one of her gloved hands nestled on my leg as she nodded her head, listening.

"Mm, is that so?" She whispered in my ear, giving my thigh a tantalizing caress before reaching towards the pouch at her side. "Well, I would be glad to help care for you in anyway I can."

"You're too kind." I stuttered, stumbling over my words like an idiot as I felt the beginnings of a blush creeping up my cheeks.

"What a poor predicament to be in." She pouted, parting the dark bangs from her forehead and staring at me with both of her gentle, lilac eyes. "I'm glad you found me while under such circumstances."

If you count you finding someone as a result of them playing enchanting and mystical music that devoids the person of all rhyme or reason then, sure, I suppose I found her. But I wasn't going to say that directly to her face.

"It will all be better soon." She began, lifting up a corked bottle of some vicorous crimson substance, "Now, drink with me. Let us forget all the issues that plague us. There is nothing wrong with indulging in the fruits of this world, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course." I replied, taking the bottle from her and uncorking it with an audible pop. "You'll have to forgive me if I pass out, I'm rather shit at holding my liquor."

Wait a minute...

Wasn't there something on the profile about the followers of Bacchus looking down on using alcohol to take advantage of the unconscious? Intoxicated, hell yeah, you could go to town on that shit. But unconscious? Absolutely despicable. I think I found my out! I'll fake passing out and she'll leave me alone , allowing me to sneak away before morning.

With that thought in mind, I took off my helmet and raised the bottle to my lips.

"Aren't you forgetting something, stud?" Diana suddenly said to me, causing me to pause and look at her, my eyebrow raised in curiousity.

She smiled at me, her locks falling from her forehead as they covered her right eye once more. She held two bronze chalices in her hands. One was dainty, quite tiny, it appeared to be used only for sipping. The other one was, well, bigger than her entire hand.

"This one is yours." She giggled, handing me the colossal sized chalice. "You are quite handsome Sir, but even I refuse to let you drink straight from the bottle."

"Apologies." I smiled, pouring a reasonable amount of wine into the cup as I swirled it around, watching the cloudy liquid intermingle with the glimmering light of the fire.

My Mom was big on wine. White wine, red wine, Merlot, pinot noir, all that bullshit.

Hell, she even told me it was the drink of love, meant to be enjoyed with a loved one beside candlelit dinners.

Shaking my head at the thought, I raised the chalice to my lips and took a small sip.

"Holshy shit, thish is s-some good ass wine, goat lady." I slurred, taking another chug of my cup before dropping down my third bottle, now empty. "How...howsh come you ain't even drunk?"

"I devote my life to making only the finest wines for man and monster." Diana replied, rubbing my head as I laid between her furry legs, my back towards her. Every time she spoke I would have to crane my head upwards, to which she would lovingly stroke my cheek and whisper some sweet nothing directly to my face.

"Well, ish good. Real good. Yoush should gimmie the recipe sometime."

"Oh, I will, my love. I will." She spoke to me gently, snaking a hand underneath my jacket and looking down towards me, her eyes softening, full of love. "We'll be together for awhile, I'm sure of it."

I paused.

Oh shit! The plan!

"Excuse me Dorito-" I began.

"Diana, hon."

"Diana, I...gottscha take a leak."

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she glanced way, little pink hearts forming in her pupils.

God, that's fucking creepy.

"Go on, big boy, don't let me keep you. But...do hurry back. I'd like to play a song for you."

I nodded dumbly, waddling off with my helmet tucked under my arm.

"What a man..." I heard her whisper wistfully as I went behind the lonely tree.

I undid my fly, dropped down my pants, and...

Proceeded to haul ass.


End file.
